Page 6 of Knightfall
The bobcat bit deeper into my skin but stopped before making me bleed.
Panic flooded my veins at that response. That was not a normal predator’s response.
I swiped at the bobcat’s head, and landed a blow, scratching its nose.
The bobcat shook me. But didn’t end the annoying little kitten.
Sard it all, my brain whispered. I don’t think this cat is a cat.
The spy master must have taken Cerena’s last spelled disguise. He must have seen me transform into a cat and chosen an animal strong enough to catch and keep me.
Quinn Byrne was smarter than I’d anticipated.
Clearly, he had orders to bring me back alive. He had no idea what torture awaited me at the palace. Or maybe he just didn’t care.
After all, I was his betrothed. He was one of the four knights my mother had chosen for me.
If he didn’t bring me back alive, he’d never ascend the throne.
With that in mind, I swung my body around. I extended my claws and buried all four paws in his jugular.
* * *
Quinn dropped me.
I rolled along the dead blue leaves, skittered to my feet, and ran. I didn’t spare a glance backward. I didn’t think I’d killed him, but I’d definitely done serious damage.
I hope I didn’t kill him—I quashed that thought.
The spy master would have ended my quest and damned me and the kingdom.
The hill ahead was dotted with boulders and I dashed up it, hoping to find someplace to take cover.
I scooted into a narrow cleft between two rocks and found myself in a small cave, a tiny, cat-sized tunnel that burrowed into the hill. It was perfect.
I settled in, determined to wait a few hours, or a few days, if that was what it took. I’d wait until I couldn’t scent that bobcat any more. And then I’d continue my quest for the wizard. The one man in the seven kingdoms who might be able to change the price of my magic.
I curled my tail around me and watched the opening of the cave, gradually drifting to sleep.
My best friend featured in my dreams frequently. That night was no exception. Even as a cat, I felt a tinge of longing.
Connor had grown up with me at court; the son of Duke Doyle, who ran the largest market for exotic good in Evaness, Connor had been my intended for my contingent of knights from the moment I was born. But I’d only grown up knowing he was my best friend. My confidant. The beautiful boy with the dark curls and winning smile. The maids had started calling him ‘lady-killer’ at age six, when he’d bribed them with sweets and compliments.
He and I had been inseparable; we’d been boisterous and obnoxious little shites who ran rings around the servants.
My governess had nicknamed us “peas and carrots.”
The first time she’d done that, Connor had stood at his desk and thrown a quill at her. “We’re like bread and honey!”
He’d been so offended she’d called us vegetables. I suppose, to eight-year-old boys, there’s little more disgusting than being compared to a vegetable. I smiled and stretched in my sleep as I relived that memory. He’d gotten smacked with a ruler for that one.
Slowly, my dreams morphed into a more recent memory. The last memory I had of Connor.
He’d hovered above my naked body, sweat collecting on his neck.
“Are you sure?”
I’d loved his growly voice at that moment. Normally so sweet and happy, eighteen-year-old Connor was the joyous one at court. Every noble loved him. They couldn’t help it. He brought a lively energy into the room with him. His mouth always stretched in a smile.
